


can’t you see i’m unholy?

by Scarlett_Rogue



Series: Non-Human Jaskier [2]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Character Death, Character Rebirth, Demon jaskier, Hurt/Comfort, Kinda, M/M, so no actual permanent dying
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-04
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:07:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,006
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23019052
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scarlett_Rogue/pseuds/Scarlett_Rogue
Summary: Jaskier was dead.Oddly enough, that’s the part he could handle. The part he couldn’t handle, the part that he’s never been able to handle, is the aftermath. The rebirth.-In which Jaskier is a demon that can’t ever fully die and Geralt is witness to his resurrection.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: Non-Human Jaskier [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1653451
Comments: 21
Kudos: 804





	can’t you see i’m unholy?

Jaskier was dead.

Oddly enough, that’s the part he could handle. The part he couldn’t handle, the part that he’s never been able to handle, is the aftermath. The rebirth. 

It wasn’t Geralt’s fault, though the Witcher was certainly blaming himself as his hovered over Jaskier’s lifeless body. The harpy had come out of nowhere, swooped low, picked up Jaskier in her razor sharp talons and crushed him like a piece of parchment. By the time Geralt threw his sword with devastating precision as the harpy, Jaskier already had one foot through death’s door. The harpy shrieked as the sword pierced her and her talons grew lax. Jaskier felt his body slip from her grasp, heard Geralt yell out his name, felt his body hit the ground hard. He felt the moment his head went numb, his vision blurred, and everything went dark. Silent.

Death was the easy part. 

As his mind weaved it’s way through the blackness of death he was vaguely aware of his body being moved. He idly wondered if Geralt would bury him before he had time to be reborn. It wouldn’t be the first time Jaskier had woken in a shallow grave. Fire danced around his feet as he pushed forward, trying to claw his way out of the void. It was a slow process - he would know he was close when the pain set in.

_‘Geralt.’_

His companion’s name slipped from his lips, an echo in the still air, as his fingers began to twitch and his limbs jerked without his permission. Something deep beneath his skin was heating up, setting fire to his body. He kept walking until he couldn’t, until his body hit the floor and he broke the silence with a howl of pain. Every bone in his body felt like it was breaking and mending back together over and over again. He writhed on the ground in agony as his skin bubbled and left him in a puddle of his own blood.

Eventually he could see the end near. Eventually his skin settled into a thick layer of dried blood and dead skin and he felt it, little by little, peeling away. Molting. It was the most disgusting part of the process, but thankfully the least painful. As time passed new, fresh skin broke free from the old layers, his wounds long forgotten. The burning, the breaking, everything stopped. 

And his heart started.

-

“Geralt.”

Jaskier woke disoriented, attempted to sit up but his body wouldn’t cooperate. He moved his head slowly from side to side. It looked like he was in a room at an inn. A warm fire crackled softly. Next to his bed sat a small table with a canister of water and dirty rags soaked in blood.

“You scared me.”

That deep, rumbling voice hovered on the other side of the bed. Jaskier hesitatingly looked to the Witcher and made eye contact, and what he saw immediately made him want to crawl under a rock-

-pain, confusion, fear, relief, anger, more pain. So many emotions wrapped up in a man who liked to pretend he didn’t have any.

“‘S the harpy dead?” His tongue lagged behind his brain.

“She’s dead. Fetched good coin, too. Enough to get us this room for the three days you’ve been…” he trailed off, unsure of exactly how to describe what he’d been witness to.

“I- ...I’ve always just called it being reborn.”

“Always?” And there was a hint of that anger again, though it didn’t necessarily sound like it was directed at Jaskier.

Jaskier tried to sit up again. This time Geralt slipped his hands below his arms and helped him up. His skin felt fragile, too sensitive.

“I’m sorry Geralt, I should have told you. I just...never thought it would be applicable.”

“What are you?” The words would have stung if they hadn’t been whispered with such soft, delicate confusion. He wasn’t used to this tender side of Geralt.

“I’m a demon. A lower demon, specifically.” Geralt’s eyes widened and Jaskier rushed forward before he could interrupt. “I’m no- I’m not dangerous. I’ve never hurt anyone. I just...want to go on adventures and sing songs and make people laugh. I would never hurt anyone, please believe me.”

Jaskier held his breath as Geralt studied him. 

“I know,” Geralt said softly. 

“And you don’t...mind?”

“Why should I? Could’ve used a heads up, though.”

Jaskier smiled, relieved. He’d been so scared of Geralt finding out that he wasn’t human, and it had all been for nothing. He was feeling guilty now for not just telling the man sooner. It would have saved them a lot of trouble. Which reminded him-

“Why uhh, why am I naked?” He was acutely aware now of his bare skin fully exposed to the air. When he looked down he noticed that the sheets under him were stained with red. 

“You seemed to be having difficulty molting. I thought I’d help the process along. Don’t worry, I was gentle.”

That explained the blood-soaked rags next to him. He briefly wondered where all the dead skin ended up but quickly shuddered away from that thought- some things were better left unknown.

“You didn’t have to do that, Geralt.” He felt something warm pulling on his heart. 

“I wanted to. I was - terrified, that I’d lose you. It was all I could do to keep myself from going crazy.”

Jaskier smiled passed the budding tears in his eyes. 

“I’ll always come back to you.”

“Yeah,” Geralt’s lips twitched in an almost-smile. “Wish I’d known that sooner. But I’m glad I know now.” He moved closer to the bed, reached out, placed a hand gently against Jaskier’s face as if he was afraid his touch would burn the younger man. “Don’t leave me again,” he whispered, running his thumb softly over Jaskier’s cheek.

Jaskier leaned into the touch and allowed his eyes to drift closed, suddenly aware of how tired he was. With Geralt by his side he felt safe.

He felt loved.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been riding this non-human Jaskier train real hard, if you have any ideas or prompts send them my way and I’ll see what I can make of them!
> 
> If you want to see more of my fic ideas and Witcher ramblings follow me on tumblr at feraljaskier!


End file.
